It was in October of 2008, within a month of being promoted to executive producer of the long-running court show Divorce Court -- I was diagnosed with HIV. The collision of these two things happening simultaneously resulted in a full-blown emotional crisis. Having to navigate through the world of HIV after professionally getting to a place for which I had worked so hard felt overwhelming.

The threat of mortality wasn't my issue. I was put on medicine fairly quickly so my viral load became and has remained undetectable. What was far more destructive was the manner in which I thought about my HIV. The stigma around virus became very real to me. The only person I told was my boyfriend, who thankfully was negative. I was so intent on controlling how people perceived me that I didn't want my friends and family to know. In addition, I thought if my boss knew he wouldn't think I was capable of doing my job.

Then one day, in a darkened control room. I noticed a dark spot in my line of sight. I was diagnosed with a stress-related retina disorder. The spot would disappear in a few months, but the only way to prevent it from reoccurring was to reduce my stress. My best friend told me about an article she read on mindfulness and specifically MBSR (Mindful-Based Stress Reduction) in Oprah's magazine. So I found an MBSR class in Los Angeles and signed up. My teacher was an OB-GYN who gave up practicing medicine to teach mindfulness. I was fascinated by the way she expertly wove meditation instruction with the neuroscience that backs the practice.

Throughout the eight-week class, I started to relate differently to what was happening in my life. I was recognizing that my thoughts, feelings, emotions and the psychical sensations in my body come and go. The fact that nothing in my life is permanent made sense to me in a way that was very different from the intellectual notion of knowing that.

I took the eight-week class a second time and shortly after it ended, my contract at Divorce Court wasn't picked up. A few weeks after that, my relationship ended. I was scared and sad, but through meditation, I knew all these feelings were temporary. I also realized my fear of how my family and friends would respond to my HIV wasn't real either. I began to see more clearly the stories I told myself of how they'd react were just that -- stories.

In March of 2011, I moved to New York to launch a new daytime talk show. While there, I met a guy and three months into our relationship he disclosed to me that he was addicted to meth. If this disclosure happened prior to my mindfulness practice, I believe I would've left him. But because of meditation, I had the space to see more of him. I saw the pain he was in. I saw the causes and conditions that led him to begin using and I saw the deep desire to be happy. He was just like me.

I returned to LA in April of 2012. Shortly thereafter, I attended a 10-day silent meditation retreat in Joshua Tree, Calif. For lodging, I was assigned to share a small house with eight men. Although we were silent, eight people rustling around, going to the bathroom, etc. resulted in quite a lot of noise. Because of this, I barely slept for the first three nights. On day four I woke up with a bloody nose from the dry desert air, my dreaded eye disordered reappeared and I felt like I had the flu.

I met with a teacher that morning and began crying uncontrollably. I felt so sorry for myself. All I could think about was how horrible it was that I was HIV positive, how exhausted I was from not sleeping, how the blind spot in my eye was annoying as hell. On a larger scale, the career I defined myself with for my entire adult life was no longer interesting to me.

The teacher comforted me, and because of her ability to be present, I felt heard and understood. She encouraged me to stay with the feelings and stick out the retreat. She also arranged for me to sleep in one of the bungalows that the teachers were using for student meetings.

That night after the last meditation sit, I walked alone to my room. As I entered and walked past two chairs just like where I had sat with my teacher hours earlier, I noticed an empty box of Kleenex and a garbage can overflowing with tissues between them. It was then that it hit me: We all have something. Just like me, the other 200 people on the retreat had reasons to cry. Just like me, they had issues to deal with. Just like me, they were trying to figure out how to be happy. We all have battles and challenges in life, and, in that moment, mine became less personal.

When I returned home I realized I wanted to do something different with my career. I had an idea for secular luxury brick-and-mortar mindfulness studios. This idea would soon turn into a meditation lifestyle brand called Rihpl, which I co-founded with my first MBSR teacher. Today, we are building the business together and are looking for funding. As I make this transition from television producer to mindfulness entrepreneur, I'm still developing TV shows and take jobs in television to support myself. My last gig was on a series for the Oprah Winfrey Network called Iyanla Fix My Life. Seeing as though it was Oprah's magazine that introduced me to mindfulness, the significance of working for Oprah was not lost on me.

On the show, Iyanla often asks the guests who they are and what it is they believe. Prior to mindfulness, and working as a TV producer, it never would have dawned on me to ask myself the same things. But because of meditation, I was already beginning to ask myself those very questions. What I realized is that I'm so much more then I think I am. There is no stigma that defines me. No one word or identity that describes me. How I think about or feel about being gay, HIV positive and even a TV producer is just a result of causes and conditions that are constantly shifting. My identity isn't solid and that's okay. The one truth I know is I'm like every other person on this planet, talk show guests included. I'm someone who is trying to be happy and feel connected to world around me. I'm someone who is learning that living each moment with compassion for myself and others is what this shared experience of life is all about.

For more by Mark Koberg, click here.

For more on mindfulness, click here.

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HUD Secretary Shaun Donovan unveiled a first-of-its-kind study on discrimination against same-sex couples in housing. (Blade file photo by Michael Key)

Same-sex couples face a greater rate of discrimination in the online rental housing market, according to a first-of-its-kind study unveiled by the Department of Housing & Urban Development on Tuesday.

The 69-page report, titled “An Estimate of Housing Discrimination Against Same-Sex Couples,” was conducted by sending 6,883 email tests in 50 metropolitan markets across the country between June and October 2011.

The findings: same-sex couples face unequal treatment compared to straight couples when responding to online ads for rental units. Also, the report found gay male couples experience more discrimination than lesbian couples.

According to the study, straight couples were favored over gay male couples in 15.9 percent of tests and over lesbian couples in 15.6 percent of tests.

“At this preliminary stage of the rental housing transaction, barriers indicate a rejection of the tester based solely on the sexual orientation information provided in the e-mail rather than on any characteristics related to qualification for the housing, thus preventing basic access to rental units,” the report states.

HUD Secretary Shaun Donovan said in a statement the study — with the University of Albany, State University of New York — is evidence that President Obama and the administration have been “unmatched in our efforts” to ensure fair treatment for LGBT people.

“Following the president’s lead, HUD has taken historic steps in the area of fair housing to ensure that we fulfill our nation’s commitment to equality,” Donovan said. “As this study shows, we need to continue our efforts to ensure that everyone is treated the same when it comes to finding a home to call their own, regardless of their sexual orientation.”

For each paired test, two emails were sent to the housing provider regarding the unit advertised online at craiglist.com. The only difference between the paired emails: one couple was same-sex, the other opposite-sex. The study measured treatment depending on whether the tester was told the unit was available, asked to contact the landlord, invited to the see the apartment or received any response at all.

Federal law prohibits discrimination in housing based on race, color, national origin, religion, sex, disability and familial status, but says nothing about sexual orientation or gender identity.

However, 20 states and D.C. have laws that specifically prohibit such discrimination against LGBT individuals. Moreover, HUD last year published a rule that requires U.S.-government funded housing providers to provide equal access without regard to sexual orientation, gender identity or marital status.

According to a statement from HUD, the study will be an initial step toward future research on LGBT housing discrimination. Recommendations for future studies include in-person testing, examination of legislative protections at the local jurisdictional level and tests for discrimination against transgender people.

Rea Carey, executive director of the National Gay & Lesbian Task Force, commended HUD for producing the study and called on Congress to take action to prohibit housing discrimination against LGBT people.

“The pervasiveness of housing discrimination toward same-sex couples is an outrage,” Carey said. “No one should be denied housing because of who they are or who they love. It is time for Congress to enact real protections for all LGBT people struggling to find an apartment to rent, or home to buy.”

The 16-year-old country singer from Team Blake is the competition's youngest winner ever, beating out fellow team members The Swon Brothers, who came in third place, and runner-up Michelle Chamuel of newbie coach Usher's team to become Season 4's "Voice" winner.

"I"m so thankful," Danielle said after the final results were announced as tears filled her eyes and confetti fell on the stage. "I'm sorry. I'm speechless."

No one went home empty-handed, though: All of the finalists won cars, courtesy of Kia.

A very confident Blake -- who celebrated his 38th birthday on Tuesday and won both Season 2 (Jermaine Paul) and Season 3 (Cassadee Pope) -- said in his final confessional, "I know that Danielle and The Swon Brothers want this so badly that it's going to make my year to see them standing in the winner's circle."

"I came from singing in my room to being in the Top 3 and it's crazy," "Voice" winner Danielle said in her final confessional before the results came in. "I told my high school I would come back home with the win for them."

Earlier in the evening, younger Swon Brother Colton told Michelle and Danielle, "I would gladly lose to either one of them ... not just because they're awesome talents, but because of their hearts. The Swon Brothers love you very much. You know that." Michelle added that the other finalists "inspire [her] as people" as well and she's "very grateful and honored" to be part of "The Voice" Season 4.

"I'm already proud of her to even be this far," Usher said of runner-up Michelle at the start of "The Voice" finale. "I could think of nothing sweeter than for me to be able to stand on stage and greet her as the winner of 'The Voice.'"

The two-hour "Voice" finale was chock-full of big-name performances, plus the three finalists and more Season 4 contestants. Pitbull and a newly-svelte Christina Aguilera, who will return with Cee Lo Green for Season 5 in the fall, kicked things off, performing their hit "Feel This Moment."

The Swon Brothers brought back their eliminated team members Holly Tucker and Justin Rivers, as well as Team Adam's Amber Carrington, for Lady Antebellum's "Stars Tonight." Continuing the starry theme, Michelle took the stage with One Republic for "Counting Stars."

Then, Florida Georgia Line and Nelly performed the summer smash "Cruise" and Team Usher's Vedo and Josiah Hawley, and Team Shakira's Kris Thomas and Garrett Gardner took on The Temptations' "Ain't Too Proud To Beg" with Holly on the sax (seriously). Before she became "The Voice" winner, Danielle brought out three Team Adam alumni -- Amber, Caroline Glaser and Sarah Simmons -- for an energetic performance of Carrie Underwood's "All-American Girl."

Bruno Mars also stopped by with his new '70s-inspired single "Treasure" -- complete with gold chains and red suits -- and Bob Seger took the stage with The Swon Brothers, singing "Night Moves." Team Adam's controversially-eliminated Judith Hill, Team Usher's Cathia and Team Shakira's Karina Iglesias and Sasha Allen put on a girl-powered performance of En Vogue's "My Lovin' (You're Never Gonna Get It)."

Season 4 "Voice" winner Danielle also got to perform with one of her favorite country singers: Hunter Hayes joined the young artist on stage for a duet of his hit "I Want Crazy." And when the opportunity came for Michelle to bring back some Season 4 contestants, she chose her fellow Team Usher contestants: Josiah, Vedo and Cathia took the stage with her for The Beatles' "We Can Work It Out."

Finally, Cher came out with a wild headpiece, for a highly-anticipated performance of her new single "Woman's World" before "The Voice" winner was crowned.

That's it for "The Voice" Season 4! Do you think the right person won? Will you miss Shakira and Usher in Season 5 or are you looking forward to the return of Cee Lo and Christina? Sound off in the comments!

CORRECTION: This story has been corrected to reflect that Blake Shelton was celebrating his 38th birthday.

I can feign sleep no longer. I place my glasses on my face just in time to watch my friend Ezekiel's son launch himself onto his father's bed. His sister quickly follows suit. They are fairly bursting with what had enabled the not-small feat of their stealthy morning outing: "Happy Father's Day!" they shout. Ezekiel's head pops up from under a pile of blankets and children to flash me a sleepy smile.

As the two children explain their scone selections to their father, Ezekiel's wife Gail puts down a tray with three large coffees and turns to me. "You get honorary Father's Day coffee too," she intones, mock-ceremoniously offering me a cup. I accept this small gift gratefully, touched. I feel as if the drink has faintly anointed me with the special glow of fatherhood.

I witness Ezekiel's first Father's Day in a Philadelphia hotel room, a block away from the Transgender Health Conference that has drawn 3,000 to the city. I surmise that there are numerous others within our community celebrating this first today, one pinnacle amongst the many precious firsts that transgender men experience throughout our gender transitions.

The only corollary imaginable is the joy of a transgender woman on Mother's Day, should she choose to be a mother, and should she not be unnecessarily kept from seeing her children. She may reasonably consider every Mother's Day to be celebrating her, including those before she emerged socially as a woman. A transgender woman is always a woman, whether acknowledged by others or not. And Ezekiel, our trans-masculine compatriots, and I have always been men.

Like many, though, this year is the first Ezekiel gets to hear "happy Father's Day" from the mouths of his beloved kids. From where I'm perched on my adjoining hotel bed, those three words carry a special ring. Unprompted, his son ends the moment by popping a party hat onto his head and singing "Happy Birthday," the realization dawning too late that he meant to say "father." The good intention stands as Ezekiel quietly excuses himself to the bathroom to dress. The kids dissolve into a make-believe session enlivened by animal balloons, provided yesterday by the conference's day camp.

Shortly, we are walking the streets of Philadelphia, looking for an easy, family-friendly brunch. I take the time to observe Ezekiel and Gail interacting with their kids, attempting to glean hints about how to raise my own future children to be as curious and open-minded as theirs. The best Father's Day gift I can think to offer Ezekiel is a reflection on my own childhood, as framed by my single mother's disability and fatigue.

I tell him that although I understand his occasional consternation at the children's unflagging inquisitiveness, an unpredictable trait that sometimes leads them to breach personal space, both physical and mental, his parenting offers something irreplaceable. I speak from my perspective as a man whose childhood was restrained by poverty and declining welfare benefits.

His children are allowed the freedom to explore until they reach the boundaries of their youthful comprehension, unashamed to ask questions concerning received biases about gender, (dis)ability, race, and employment. Their parents intervene when their language is disrespectful of others, or when their curiosity breaches privacy, but not when they discuss issues of sexism, racism, ableism, or classism, considered "impolite" for company. When they reflect back their developing worldviews, these young people spill over with compassion.

I spend my borrowed first Father's Day brunch deep in conversation with Ezekiel and Gail's school-age daughter, frankly answering her questions about my own youth. I can see her struggling to paint an internal picture of me at her age; mentally walking in my shoes provides her another building block of empathy. Brow furrowed, she fires a string of queries to help her understand the man before her: born with (to use her phrase) "a body like mine," moving from apartment to shelter to apartment, holding in my playful shouts to help my sick mother rest.

"Your mom must have been sad when she got sick; seeing you now must make her happy," she concludes. I silently send up a wish that this child will never learn how many parents unthinkingly lose out on the happiness of knowing their own transgender sons and daughters.

She is so intent on hearing my story that her parents offer to slip out, entrusting me to keep her heart, mind, and body safe. After an hour spent verbally careening between my childhood reminiscences, the dangers of cigarettes, the different kinds of artists one can grow to become, the difference between presidents and senators, and how tattoos feel, I regretfully realize that it's nearly time for me to catch my bus home from Philadelphia.

Stepping out onto the sidewalk, she grabs my hand as I steer us back to her parents. Locking eyes with a man as I pass, he mumbles to me, "Happy Father's Day, man." I consider stopping to explain that I am merely a temporary guardian, but instead I nod in thanks and continue onward.

Read more about Ezekiel and Gail's family on their blog First Time, Second Time.